


First Time

by ladyblahblah



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyblahblah/pseuds/ladyblahblah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fluffiest fluff to ever fluff a fluff.  Absolutely no redeeming value.  Seriously.  I just needed something to make my soul stop hurting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this entirely on the third series. I needed some hardcore fluff to keep from slitting my own wrists. Thanks very much, Rusty.

 

 

 

Ianto’s palms are sweating.  He’s trying his best to hide it, but he has the sneaking suspicion that Jack knows anyway.  Jack _always_ seems to know.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”  Jack’s voice is low and soothing.  It isn’t his usual brashly confrontational or equally brashly seductive tones.  It makes Ianto want to squirm.

“Of course I have.”  That damned eyebrow darts up; Ianto fights the urge to curse.

“With a man?”

“Well, ah.”  He clears his throat.  “No, not as . . . such.”

Strong fingers stroke with uncanny gentleness over the back of his hand where it rests on the table.  Such a simple, casual touch.  It shouldn’t be enough to have Ianto half-hard in anticipation.  And yet.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?”  Jack’s voice is on him like a caress, stroking over his skin like velvet, finding spots that were secret even to him.  “Once we start, you know, there’s no turning back.”

Ianto is silent for a moment before his fingers lift from the table, twist ever so slightly so that they’re lightly tangled with Jack’s.  “I’ve given this . . . quite a bit of thought, you know.  And I think that if it’s going to happen . . .”  He clears his throat, looks at last into Jack’s eyes.  “It’s going to.  And I’d like it to be you who shows me how.”

The smile Jack gives him isn’t his usual, either.  It’s softer, and warmer, and it makes it possible for Ianto to forget that Jack has spent most of the evening with his eyes locked on Gwen instead of him.  He can’t really blame him, in any case—always lovely, she’s quite simply radiant in white.

Jack slides his hand away only to stand and offer it again.  And yes, there’s the smile that Ianto knows, the cheeky grin that has him berating his heart for beating faster, his hand for automatically lifting to join with Jack’s again.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, and yes, of course he can.  It was already his for the asking.  



End file.
